As Love Blooms

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As Love Blooms Page 15

by Lorna Seilstad


  That first day, she’d blown in like a breath of fresh air, and even before he saw the garden plans, he’d wanted to help her. But his offer to use her garden plans to impress his boss? That had been a lie too. After he viewed the plans, he knew he needed her creativity as much as she needed the chance for Mr. Nussbaumer to discover her talent.

  “It made sense at the time.” He squatted and rubbed Lafayette’s head. “She got what she wanted, and I got what I needed. But now that I like Tessa, I don’t think she’ll be impressed to learn I’ve been using her to make up for my inadequacies. And if there’s any chance she could be the one, I’ll need that job in the conservatory to support a wife.”

  Lafayette cocked his head at him.

  “What? You think I’m jumping the gun? Well, you’re the only one I’ll admit this to, but I can’t get that girl out of my thoughts.” He stood. “Come on, boy. Let’s go somewhere and warm up. Maybe if we get busy, I can make sense of all this.”

  Sure, hard work. His father always said it was all he was good for.

  Rivulets of water trailed down the windowpane, and Tessa traced the path with her finger. Enough windows were open in Aunt Sam’s house to let in the rain-scented breeze.

  Three long days without gardening. Three lifetimes without Reese.

  “Tessa, dear, how long are you planning to sit there staring out the window?” Aunt Sam sat down at her writing desk. “You can’t make the rain stop by sheer will.”

  “I wish I could.” Tessa crossed the room and plopped down at the piano with a sigh. She plucked out a series of discordant notes.

  “It isn’t like you to be unable to entertain yourself. Why don’t you do something you enjoy, like reading a play or one of those Munsey books you’re so fond of?”

  Tessa snagged the May issue of the story paper from the table and thumbed through it, but even Zane Grey’s The Light of the Western Stars failed to keep her interest for more than a few minutes.

  She heaved a long sigh.

  “Tessa, find something to do, or I shall put you to work cleaning ashes from the fireplaces.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  Aunt Sam arched her brows.

  “You would?” Tessa hurried from the room before her aunt could make good on the threat. Several minutes later, she returned with her collection.

  Aunt Sam looked up. “What on earth are all of those?”

  “My scrapbooks.” Tessa thumped them down on Aunt Sam’s desk. “And the box on top holds the mementos I’ve yet to include. I thought I’d put them in.”

  “An excellent rainy day activity.”

  “I thought I’d spread these things out in the parlor. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all, dear.”

  Tessa picked up the stack and jostled the albums onto her left arm. “Can you hand me the glue?”

  With a nod of her gray head, Aunt Sam opened a drawer on her desk, removed a bottle of glue, and deposited it in Tessa’s hand. “Enjoy your project.”

  It didn’t take long to cover the table with clippings and programs she wanted to include. She opened the glue and caught a fishy whiff. Before she was done, the whole room would reek.

  “Tess,” Aunt Sam called from the adjoining study. “Why don’t you put some music on the Victrola?”

  “Great idea, Aunt Sam.” Tessa opened the doors to the cabinet where the heavy records were kept. She pulled one out of its paper sleeve and slipped it onto the Victrola. After winding the player, she flipped the switch and set the needle down on the spinning turntable. Soon, strains of “When the Midnight Choo-Choo Leaves for Alabam’” filled the two rooms.

  Halfway through the song, Aunt Sam came into the parlor, dancing a little jig to the music.

  Tessa giggled. “You might be almost sixty-five years old, but you don’t act like it.”

  “I think we all have two ages. One that we actually are, and one that we feel like we are. Inside, I have been sixteen forever.”

  “Me too,” Tessa admitted. “No matter how old I get, I think I’ll never feel old.”

  “Then dance with me.” Aunt Sam restarted the record. Amid a flurry of laughter, they moved to the silly song like schoolgirls.

  The butler stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat.

  Aunt Sam turned and frowned at the interruption. “What is it, Geoffrey?”

  “There’s a Mr. King here to see Miss Tessa, ma’am. Shall I send him away?”

  “No!” Tessa put a hand on Aunt Sam’s arm.

  “Even I expect some modicum of decorum, dear.” She turned to Tessa and winked. “After you introduce me, I shall retire to the study—with the doors shut.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Sam.”

  Geoffrey bowed slightly. “I’ll show the young man in, ma’am.”

  Tessa glanced around the room. What a mess. She hurried to the table and began to assemble her supplies. She hastily gathered the scraps of paper and lifted a pillow on the couch, stuffing some of the scraps beneath it.

  “What will Reese think if he finds my things scattered from here to eternity?” she whispered.

  A familiar male hand stilled her efforts. Heat searing her cheeks, she looked up into Reese’s face.

  “What will he think? He’ll think he should have called ahead like a true gentleman.” He grabbed a waste paper basket from beside the desk and held it out to her. “Sorry about that, but I didn’t want to wait another day to see you.”

  Tessa dropped the contents in her hand into the wastebasket and smiled sheepishly. “Aunt Sam, this is Reese King.” She motioned her hand toward her aunt. “Reese, this is my aunt, Mrs. Samantha Phillips.”

  Reese set the wastebasket down. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Phillips.”

  “And you as well, Mr. King.” Aunt Sam gave him a slight nod, a hint of smile on her lips. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have some work to attend to.”

  After she’d closed the double doors, Reese swallowed. “Is your aunt upset that I’ve called on you like this?”

  “No, not at all. She’s giving us some privacy—but not too much.” Tessa dipped her head. Shyness was a strange sensation she couldn’t recall ever feeling before. She motioned to the couch. “Shall we sit?”

  The maid entered the parlor. “Miss Tessa, would you care for refreshments?”

  “Yes, Mary. Please bring us some of that chocolate cake Charlotte made and—” She turned to Reese. “Do you prefer coffee or tea?”

  “What do you like with your chocolate cake?”

  “Honestly?” Tessa’s lips curled. “I want milk.”

  “Nothing goes better with chocolate cake than milk. Make that two milks, please, Mary.”

  After the maid scurried away, Tessa asked Reese about what he’d done the last three days in her absence. When the conversation lulled for a second, Reese reached for one of the scrapbooks. “What’s all this?”

  “My collections.”

  “Of?”

  “Well . . .” She pointed to the one he was holding. “This one is a collection of newspaper headlines from when I wanted to be a reporter.” She indicated the next on the stack. “This one holds all of my photographs from when I thought I wanted to become a photographer. This little notebook has information I gleaned from my study of Allan Pinkerton.”

  “From when you wanted to be a Pinkerton agent?”

  She nodded. “This thick leather one holds all the clippings and pictures I’ve collected of actresses, and programs from the plays I’ve been in. The one beneath it holds photographs, postcards, letters, suffrage clippings, and other memorabilia that doesn’t fit anywhere else.”

  “And this one?” Reese pointed to one off to the side.

  She ran her hand over the gilt flourishes decorating its cover. “This is my garden scrapbook. It has all the etchings I’ve made.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “The gardens?”

  “No, all of the scrapbooks. It’s like a museum about you. I want to go
through every one.”

  “That’s hardly fair. You’ll know all about me, and I won’t know anything about you.”

  “Tessa, I think I could spend a lifetime and still not know everything about you.”

  Her heart danced. He could spend a lifetime with her?

  Slow down. Don’t let your imagination run away with you.

  Oh, but it was awfully fun to let her imagination run free.

  Flipping one of the volumes shut, Reese leaned back on the couch and smiled at the woman beside him. He’d discovered so much about her. Whatever she was interested in, be it crime or the stage, she became passionate about it and immersed herself in it. Still, one thing had seemed to span the test of time—her love of flowers and gardens.

  “This is the last one.” She shoved her plate of half-eaten chocolate cake to the side and lifted the last scrapbook. “It holds all of the odds and ends.”

  He patted the empty spot beside him on the couch. “Scoot over here so we can both look together.”

  She complied and spread the scrapbook on their laps. “You have to promise not to laugh. Some of these things might seem silly that I kept them.”

  He covered his heart with his hand. “You have my word.”

  As soon as she opened the tome, he chuckled at the family photograph on the first page. A baby dressed head to toe in frills sat on her mother’s lap. “Is that you?”

  “You promised not to laugh.”

  “It’s not my fault you were so cute.” He leaned closer and peered at the photograph. The family of five had been posed outdoors, and all three little girls appeared to be wearing white Sunday dresses. “So these are your parents. Was this your house?”

  “It was taken on the front porch.”

  “Your mother was beautiful. Which one of these girls is Charlotte and which is Hannah?”

  Tessa pointed to the girl on the right. “That’s Hannah. Charlotte has the big bow in her hair.”

  “I’m feeling sorry for your dad. He was surrounded by women.” He chuckled. “Did he ever say anything about not having a son?”

  Tessa touched the edge of the photograph, then turned to him with glassy eyes. “He said the Lord had blessed him with girls because there were enough foolish men in the world. He planned to raise smart daughters to make up the difference.” She smiled at the memory. “He always told me, ‘You’ll never know if you don’t try. The future belongs to those who dare.’”

  Reese’s respect for the man grew tenfold. Tessa had surely lived by those words. How well he must have known her. “And what did you mother always tell you?”

  “She told me a lot of things. She constantly reminded us that friends would come and go, but our sisters would be our sisters forever.” She glanced at him. “Do you have siblings? I can’t believe we haven’t talked about that.”

  “Two, actually. Like you, I’m the youngest. I have an older brother named Robert. He and his wife live in Chicago, and he works in insurance. They have four kids. My sister Tilly and her husband have one on the way. My mother loves being a grandma, so she’s thrilled.”

  “So you’re the only one who followed in your father’s footsteps.”

  He sighed. “You can’t become the sun, Tessa. You can only live in its shadow.”

  “Is that what you think? That you can’t outshine your father? Reese King, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like to live in someone’s shadow.”

  “Honestly?” She flipped ahead a page to a portrait of Hannah. “May I present exhibit A. My sister the attorney, who can take on anything and win.” Then she jabbed a finger at a second picture of Charlotte. “And here’s exhibit B. No one can out-cook or out-nice Charlotte. She warms up a room simply by walking into it.” She looked him in the eye. “Don’t you see? I can’t be better than them at what they do, but I can be my best. They still think I’m the girl who tried something new every other month, but I’m not her anymore. That’s why I want the job at Como so much—to prove to them I can be as good at what I love as they are at what they love.”

  Reese stood and paced the room. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m in the same field as my father. Do you know he’s famous for his method of prairie gardening? I can’t even—” He stopped short and turned to the fireplace. He raked his fingers through his hair. Good grief, he’d almost blurted out that he couldn’t even design a garden on his own. Here he was falling for an incredible girl, and he was about to blurt out his biggest weakness.

  Tessa crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not your father, but God doesn’t want you to be. Where would the fun be in that?”

  He cupped her petal-soft cheek. “Ah, Tessa, do you look for fun in everything?”

  “Absolutely.” She smiled, and he felt it against his palm.

  Then, out of nowhere, she smeared his cheek with chocolate frosting.

  “You’re going to get it now, Tessa Gregory!” He dove for his remaining cake and grabbed the last couple of bites. He walked toward her, a handful of icing behind his back.

  He backed her toward the corner.

  “Truce?” To her credit, the offer almost sounded as if she were doing him a favor.

  “Not today, sweet pea.” He reached for her. She squealed and dodged beneath his arm with only a small smear of frosting marring her creamy skin.

  “There’s something you need to learn. Never mess with a Gregory girl.”

  She snagged the rest of her own half-eaten cake as she raced by. He caught her waist, and the Chocolate Cake War of 1913 was on.

  20

  Chocolate cake fight cleaned up, Tessa followed Reese out onto the front porch. If he didn’t leave soon, he said she’d be working alone tomorrow.

  The mention of his father earlier had led into a long talk about their childhoods. Being so much younger than his siblings, Reese said he was a bit of an only child. Tessa had no doubt this was why he didn’t mind working alone for hours.

  But if it was up to her, his days of solitude were history.

  Holding hands, they reached the top of the stairs and turned toward one another. Tessa drew in a deep breath. “I love how the air smells after the rain. I wish I could capture it in a bottle and wear it every day.”

  “If you did, maybe it wouldn’t be as special.”

  “You’re probably right. It’s like lilacs. We have their luscious scent for such a short time, it makes them a star in the spring.” She glanced up at the night sky sprinkled generously with stars. “It looks like the clouds have finally gone, so we can get back to work on our garden tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad. I’ve missed it—and you.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “You’ve got some frosting on your face.”

  “Where?”

  “Right here.” He tucked a knuckle beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. Then he kissed her cheek. “Oh, and here too.” He pressed another kiss to her corner of her lips. “And a little here.”

  Her skin tingled beneath his touch. “Anywhere else?”

  “Now that you ask . . .” He slipped his hand around the back of her head and threaded his fingers through her hair. “I think there’s some right here.”

  His lips claimed hers in a burst of chocolate-infused sweetness. Warmth pooled inside her, and she leaned into his strong embrace.

  She’d never felt so desired, so cherished, so grown-up.

  He broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “Tessa, you’re intoxicating. I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Her heart soared. He loved her!

  It was too much to believe. All of the seedlings she’d planted were beginning to bloom—her relationship with Reese, her work at Como, and her plans to help Mr. Nussbaumer with his conservatory. Even her sisters had begun to see her differently.

  And at the center of all those things was Reese King. He loved her and she loved him.

  Hope took root. If she had a jo
b at Como and had a wedding to plan, she’d not be able to go back to college. Everyone would understand, and she could avoid telling Reese or her family her secret.

  “Reese, I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

  “Senator Ferrell to see you, ma’am.”

  Sam looked up at Geoffrey. “So early?” She smoothed the side of her hair and asked the butler to send the senator in.

  When James appeared in the parlor’s doorway, she rose and greeted him. “James, I’m surprised to see you.”

  “We have a standing lunch date, correct?”

  “Yes, of course, but not at this early hour.”

  “Today I thought we could have an early lunch and attend a matinee.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ll even throw in ice cream.”

  “Are you bribing me, Senator?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Yes, I believe it may be.” She smiled. “Give me twenty minutes to change.”

  “If you’ll wear a dress, you have a deal.” He gave her a lilting grin.

  Of course she’d wear a dress to the theater. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a bit bossy?”

  “It comes with the job description.” A flash of humor crossed his face. “And I wouldn’t talk if I were you, Samantha.”

  “I’m not bossy.” She smirked. “I’m a revolutionary.” And for his little comment, she’d put on a lovely pair of bloomers and see what Senator Ferrell thought of that.

  With her niece Ellie’s favorite doll tucked beneath her arm, Tessa hopped off the streetcar and began the trek to Hannah and Lincoln’s Craftsman brick home. While she and Reese had been cleaning up after their cake war, she’d found the doll beneath the couch. She imagined Ellie was quite distressed about her missing “baby,” so she decided to leave early enough to make a special delivery.

  Hannah’s housekeeper, Mrs. Umdahl, opened the door and directed Tessa into the dining room, where Hannah and Ellie were eating breakfast. They both looked up as she entered.

 

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